Mischief and Mayhem
by Flight of Insanity
Summary: A set of short stories involving various canon characters and my primary OC.
1. Transforming

To be hurled into existence is a disorienting thing. Being abruptly changed from inanimate object to sentient being is no exception.

It didn't take long from the instant Sam hit the ground, Allspark in hand, for the energy pulse to race away and give life to a handful of machines in the vicinity. A game console tore itself from its box. A soda machine went on the attack. Even the steering wheel of the black Escalade responsible for Sam's fall came into existence swinging.

The abandoned green car around the corner, covered in dirt and parking tickets, absorbed its fair share of the runaway energy, but aside from an abnormal tremor that ran through the exterior, showed no visible signs of life.

While every fiber of its newly-sparked being screamed _Run! Escape! Fight!_ a little voice in the back of the new mind said _Wait._ Not one to argue such things, the car waited (albeit reluctantly). And while it waited, it observed. First, it mentally explored itself. It noticed the fine layer of desert dust covering its paint and the strange paper squares wedged between its wiper blades and windshield. A moment of careful concentration and the wipers swished once, sending several of the papers fluttering to the ground. Curious now, after making the wiper blades move, the car began to see what else it could do. Lights flashed and the radio came on. When the horn honked, as it turned out, several of the fleeing humans would turn to look at the green car, as if hoping it could give them safety.

An explosion rocked the street, sending debris flying and knocking bits of wall loose from the building next to the car. Startled, it screeched forward several inches before stopping, remembering the mysterious little voice.

Attention now thoroughly diverted to the chaotic outside world, the car took in its surroundings. Looking at the mess of debris and destroyed roads, a thought crossed the car's mind, _Surely this isn't what it's always like?_

A flurry of movement attracted the car's attention to a group of running humans. It noticed the two types of human, male and female. Thinking about the two, the car came to the conclusion that it was a male… whatever that meant. Briefly, he wondered what was making the humans run like that; just as quickly, he wished he'd never wondered that at all.

Another explosion and a loud crashing grabbed the car's attention again. This time, it was all the car could do to not turn tail and flee like the humans. Down the street, two colossal beings were locked in violent combat. Though they vaguely resembled the humans from earlier, they were obviously not the same. They were giant, metallic, and obviously not going to run anywhere in a panic any time soon. One, a silver behemoth, didn't seem to care what it destroyed in its quest to destroy its foe. A howl of rage tore itself from the monster, and the green car shrank back ever so slightly, wanting so badly to be anywhere but where he sat.

The other metal giant seemed different, though. Maybe it was the fact that it tried not to hit the humans or the buildings, or the fact that it seemed to be losing, but the blue and red one appeared to be slightly less violent. It fought viciously nonetheless, and so still alarmed the poor green car. But, while he wanted to run, he had no doubt that would attract attention that he oh-so-very _didn't_ want, so he stayed put.

Not long after the two beings had appeared in the car's line of sight, blue and red was slammed to the ground and silver seemed ready to finish him off. Suddenly the blue and red's attention shifted not to his assailant, but to a nondescript human male holding a–

A _cube_. The car didn't know why or how, but that little box felt familiar. There was something riveting about it, and as he watched, the human thrust the box at the silver mech and it started to dissolve. As it dissolved, the silver monster howled in… pain? Or rage? Maybe a little of both, before collapsing to the ground. With his enemy no longer threatening his life, the blue and red mech slowly stood and first addressed the dormant body and then the small human.

While watching the blue and red mech, the green car identified several parts – tires, lights, windows – that he knew _he_ had, from his previous curiosity.

_Maybe they're like me! Whatever… _I_ am…_, he thought excitedly, before he thought about the fight from a moment ago.

The two beings had been so ready to destroy each other… One _had_ destroyed the other (the human helper had been quickly forgotten). Why? Why were they doing that? Were they all so violent? And what about him? He certainly didn't want to get in a fight with one of them. Interrupting his questions, two more mechanical beings walked out from between a couple other buildings, and yet another rode in on the back of a tow truck.

_Maybe_, he thought, now more than a bit nervous, _maybe they'll just leave, and not notice me here…_

Unfortunately for him, fate had other plans. The large black mech turned in the car's direction, a very distinct scowl on its face.

* * *

><p>Ironhide, veteran mech that he was, had had just about enough for one day. For starters, Bumblebee had been captured, probably tortured, by the humans. Then they had attempted to hide the Allspark in the city, only to be attacked by a group of Decepticons, losing a close comrade in the fray. And then, to top it all off, the cube had apparently decided to animate a whole group of human machines.<p>

Granted, the machines weren't too hard to defeat when they blindly attacked, but slag it all, they were annoying as pit when they popped out of nowhere and started shooting. It almost seemed like a black humored cosmic joke that they all came online in a veritable Decepticon-mode. So it was understandable that he would be more than a little irritated when he detected yet _another_ one of those new-sparks behind him.

Turning around, scowl prominent on his war-scarred faceplate, the mech scanned the area, cannons at the ready. He didn't see anything outright, but the spark was registering on his sensors, so he assumed it must be another small abomination. Perhaps a cell phone or another game console… Because the first was oh-so much fun to stumble across.

His engine revved in irritation, causing the flamboyantly green-yellow medic to turn and look at him. Ratchet eyed the weapons specialist and gruffly asked, "What?"

Not turning his attention from the road, Ironhide responded, "Another one 'a those damned human machines is alive. Ah just don't know where it is."

Having been distracted by Bumblebee's injuries, Ratchet hadn't bothered to pay any attention to non-Decepticon spark signatures on his scanners. A quick scan of the area, and… Yep. There it was. Blue optics scanned the road before coming to rest on an unassuming green coupe. He scanned again before deciding that was the location of the spark. Pointing, the medic stated, "I believe it's the green one."

* * *

><p><em>Uh oh.<em>

The garishly colored mech had just pointed straight at him. Apparently they figured out he was there. How, the car wasn't sure, since he was sure he'd held very still. Still, they seemed to know… And the large black mech looked anything but happy. Its cannon arms came up slightly and it started to move toward the green car.

_Run!_

More than happy to oblige the voice in his head, the mech let survival instincts take over and spun out of the parking spot, tires screaming and rubber burning. With surprising speed, he shot down a less-destroyed side road, leaving dust flying in his wake. As he fishtailed around a corner, he caught a glimpse of the huge black mech methodically collapsing into an equally huge black vehicle. Skidding down another road, the green mech heard the throaty roar of his pursuer's engine as the other gave chase.

Several minutes of cat-and-mouse later, (with much delicate swerving to avoid pedestrians) the duo found themselves on the interstate. Luckily for the green car, it was easier to unleash all the speed he had in the more open space of the 4-lane road. Unluckily for the green car, it was easier for the black mech to do the same, and surprising as it was, that truck was _fast_.

Before he had time to think up a new escape plan that involved more strategy than just "runrunrun!", the green mech nearly collided with a flamboyantly green-yellow SUV with a multitude of flashing lights and wailing sirens that had appeared out of apparent nowhere. Slamming on the breaks and spinning to one side, the green mech tried to take off again, only to find himself heading _toward_ the black truck now. The black truck in question seemed to undergo a controlled explosion before reforming into the hulking bipedal giant from before, and the sound of metal sliding on metal indicated the yellow light-covered one did the same.

In a flurry of confused, panicky thought, the green mech managed to start driving backwards and trigger his transformation simultaneously. For a terrifying moment, he thought he was going to fall apart; he felt himself come apart at the seams, and just as quickly reform into something else. Had he not been driving backwards when he did this, it might have been more graceful. As it was, he managed to trip on his own new-found feet and somersault backwards a couple of times before landing unceremoniously on the road.

He sat up and shook his head, as it seemed to help the world stop spinning, and froze when he caught sight of the black mech standing in front of him. Snapping his head around, he saw the other one was behind him. Throwing all caution to the wind, he pulled his feet under him and leapt to the side, leaning back out of the black mech's reach. He dared to feel happy that his new escape plan was working when he felt something wrap around his feet. Time seemed to slow down as he realized, with some alarm, that his feet were tied together and the ground was getting very close.

With an almighty crash of metal on asphalt, the green mech face-planted into the ground. He lay there for a second, awaiting his doom at the hand-cannons of the black mech. When he realized he wasn't being blasted into oblivion, he ever-so-slowly started pushing himself off the ground. He froze when he caught sight of the feet of the two mechs, and let his optics wander up to take in their entirely unamused expressions.

Giving what he hoped was a disarmingly innocent expression, the green mech hurriedly pushed himself up so he was sitting on his knees (his feet were still tied up, mind you). If anything, the black mech seemed to get more agitated, but the yellow one seemed a bit friendlier. He crouched down in front of (but out of arm's reach of) the new green mech.

"What's your name?" he asked.

The green mech's optics flickered, almost a blink, "Name?"

A sigh, "What are you called? I'm Ratchet. He's Ironhide. Who are you?"

For a moment, the green mech couldn't do anything but stare at the two. They weren't actually going to obliterate him? … Well, the black one was iffy, but the yellow one looked nice enough. But what was his name? Being so new to this whole sentience thing, he wasn't really sure what a name was… or if he had one. Offering up one more piece of advice, the little voice in the mech's mind tossed out a word. The mech wasn't sure where it came from, but it sounded like it belonged to him.

He looked the green-yellow mech in the optics and said confidently, "Dropshock."

* * *

><p><em>AN:_

_And now you all know my primary OC - Dropshock. :)_  
><em>Though this wasn't the first story I wrote with him, I figured I should put it up first as a proper introduction before things get silly (as stories tend to do when he's involved).<em>

_A couple things I'll point out for clarity's sake:_

_- The 'voice' in Dropshock's mind is his conscience. I imagine that immediately after being launched into existence it would be hard to differentiate your conscience from an actual speaker. Don't worry. He quickly learns to ignore it._

_- I imagine Ratchet has a grapling hook as one of his tools (all the better to catch Med Bay escapees, you know) and that's what he used to keep Dropshock from running off._


	2. Exploring

"You have _got_ to be joking…"

"Dropshock, ya know Prowl doesn't know how to joke."

A green hand pointed irritably at the fissure, "Have you _seen_ the size of that hole? Why can't we get a microbot to do this?"

Silver shoulders shook with laughter, "'Cuz Prowl ordered _you_ to do it? Besides all the micros are busy doin' other stuff."

Dropshock gestured at Jazz, "Even you are smaller than I am!"

"Well, yeah, but Ah'm also an officer, so… In ya go, mah good mech."

"Fine," Dropshock hissed, "I crawl through your fragging hole and rescue Wheeljack's precious run away gadget."

As he knelt down, trying to figure out how best to get into the cave, Dropshock heard Jazz call out, "And watch out for the creatures!" Cursing the existence of officers, caves, and gadgets, the green mech folded his doorwings back as far as they would go and started crawling into the small opening.

Any hopes he might have had of the cave widening out were quickly dashed as the rocks continued to scrape uncomfortably against his armor and scans showed more of the same for as far as the pings could reach (which wasn't very far). Hearing a skittering of rocks, Dropshock thought he might have found the wayward drone, but the feeling of pebbles and dirt working their way under his armor informed him that there was no way his quest would be over that easily.

While trying to pull himself through a hole, Dropshock immediately regretted putting all of his weight on one hand when the stalagmite he was using to hold himself up collapsed, causing him to face plant into an unbelievably cold puddle. With his front half significantly lower than his lower half, gravity took hold and the green mech performed a slow motion tumble through the hole. Upside down and covered in mud and icy water, Dropshock glowered at the ceiling and sighed irritably.

"Why me?" he asked the rocks above him. The rocks, predictably, didn't answer.

He splashed a hand in the muddied water that was currently seeping into his joints, "I mean really – How could the oh-so-logical Prowl think this was a good idea?" Raising a hand, he listened to the squelching plop the mud made as it dripped off his fingers. Sighing again, and with much scraping of armor against the ever present rocks, Dropshock crawled around until he was upright (mostly) and aimed in the right direction again.

A few turns later, and the mech froze like a deer in the headlights as he felt something distinctly not-mud squirm around in his knee joint. Still on his hands and knees, he turned his head and peered in the general direction of the offending joint, half expecting to see a monster attached to it. Maybe one of those gross blobs the humans were always fighting on their video games. After a few seconds of staring and seeing nothing (not that he could see much in the dark anyway) he started to think that it might've just been his imagination. Relief was but a fleeting thought as he felt the something move around again and saw something slimy poke out of a gap in his armor.

A very unmechly shriek tore itself from his vocalizer and he leapt up, crashing his helm into more than one unforgiving rock formation. Putting a hand to his now hurting helm, the green mech shook his leg viciously trying to dislodge the… whatever it was. Something else slimed across his other foot and Dropshock paused for all of a second before leaping forward and blindly crashing through the small passageway, heedless of all the dings, dents, and scratches he was collecting.

Not watching where he was going in his mad dash, Dropshock failed to notice the slight rise in front of him. He yelped as his foot caught on the elevated rock and he was sent into a tumble down a pile of loose rocks. The cavern echoed with the sound of metal crashing on rocks and an "Ooof…" as the mech came to a stop flat on his back in a pile of dust; a volley of small rocks tumbled down after him, bouncing off his helm and shoulders before coming to a stop themselves.

Finding himself, once again, staring at the ceiling – this time covered in dust in addition to the mud from earlier – Dropshock belatedly realized he was being commed.

_.: Dropshock? What the slag're ya doin' in there? :._

Screwing his face up into a most unhappy scowl, the mech ignored the comm; he knew he shouldn't and he'd surely get lectured for it later, but at the moment, he couldn't bring himself to care. After an extended silence, Jazz commed back, this time sounding slightly worried.

_.: Dropshock? C'mon, mech. Answer meh. :._

Dropshock let his superior worry for a few more moments before answering. _.: I hate you… :._

He picked up the barely audible sigh of relief on Jazz's end. _.: Yeah, well, at least yer still alive ta hate meh. What'd ya do in there? Sounded like a cave in. :._

_.: There are THINGS in this cave. :._ Dropshock replied, instead of answering the question.

_.: Things like bats? :._

_.: B- ... What? Bats? :._

_.: Yeh know… Bats. Little flying rodents. Live in caves… Bats. :._

"WHAT?" Dropshock screeched both out loud and through the comm link. Vaguely he heard Jazz curse at the abrupt increase in volume, but frankly he didn't care. "You sent me in here with _rodents_? And FLYING ones at that?"

_.: Primus almighty, will you calm down? :._

"NO I will not calm down," he shouted back, jerking into a sitting position and flaring his doorwings out. "You- I- … Rodents, Jazz! _Rodents!_" His voice was full of accusation.

_.: Fer the love of- … Look, Percy and Hound both said there were no bats in there, ya chicken. :._

Dropshock huffed haughtily, "You wouldn't be laughing if it was _you_ they violated."

Jazz outright laughed at that. _.: They didn't _violate_ ya, mech. Primus yer just as much of a drama Prime as Tracks 'n Sunshine. :._

Dropshock didn't grant Jazz a response to that, and the silver mech continued, _.: So how's the search goin' anyway? Find the drone yet? :._

"No," he replied irritably, "if I had, do you think I'd still be in this cave getting my joints invaded by slime creatures?"

_.: Probly not… :._ A sigh echoed through the link. _.: Keep searchin'. Wheeljack ain't gonna be happy if we don't find that drone. :._

"I'm sure he can build another," Dropshock grumbled, even as he cautiously stood up, careful to not hit his helm on anything. Killing the comm link, the mech scanned the immediate area, noticing that the cavern he was in was considerably more open (and less muddy) than his entire journey so far. A longer range scan pinged off something electronic and the green mech set off in that direction.

As he came closer to the location of the electronic something, he started calling out "Heeeeere, droney droney drone" hoping he wouldn't have to go much farther to find the blasted thing. No drone came running over, so Dropshock figured either it only responded to Wheeljack or the eccentric engineer had neglected to give it audio sensors – neither would be particularly surprising to the green mech.

Noticing the ceiling creeping down as he continued along the passage, Dropshock hunched over and promptly whacked his shin guard into an errant spire of rock. "Frag it all," he cursed as the clang echoed around the narrowing passageway. Scowling at the rocks and darkness, he delicately picked his way through the passage, sighing in almost-relief when he squeezed through the last portion and found himself in a slightly wider room.

A soft chirrup had him snapping his head up and peering through the gloom. He was rewarded with the sight of the lost drone perched happily on a small outcrop just across the small room.

"Primus, finally," Dropshock muttered before activating his comm link. _.: Found it! :._

_.: Ah knew ya could do it. Snatch that puppy up and lets head back to base. :._

_.: Gladly. :._

Two steps forward, and the drone was no more than a few inches out of his reach. "C'mere you little-" He was cut off as the room was suddenly filled with an ominous crack and a rumble that shook through the floor. Dropshock felt himself drop an inch and glanced at the floor in horror, "You have got to be kidding m-"

The floor cut him off again as another rumble sounded and he felt the rocks giving way. He lunged for the far wall and felt the tips of his fingers brush the rocks before gravity took hold and he found himself falling. The free fall was relatively short, but the slope he hit was slanted just so to make it impossible to stop himself and he tumbled out of control (yet again) and made a mental note to murder Wheeljack if he made it out of this cave alive.

After crashing into a particularly hard rock, Dropshock felt his leg catch on a rock, bringing him to a rather jarring stop while he was partially through a hole. With his shoulders and one doorwing through the opening and the other doorwing squished between his back and the edges of the gap, Dropshock found himself with very few options. Waving a hand in the darkness and, more intelligently, running a scan revealed that he was lodged in the wall of yet another cavernous room. Frowning at his string of terrible luck he steeled himself for the inevitable crash to the ground, braced his hands against the wall and wiggled and shoved… only to find himself unable to move. He tried again, but to no avail. He was definitely stuck.

"Wonderful…"

With an annoyed rev of his engine, Dropshock activated his comm, only to have Jazz immediately start talking. _.: How long does it take ya to grab a drone? :._

_.: Well… I've got good news and some bad news… :._

There was an extended pause before Jazz sighed and replied, _.: I'll take the bad news first… :._

_.: Wheeljack's gonna have to build a new drone. :._

_.: Damn. Well, he won't be happy for sure, but nothin' we can do 'bout that. What's the good news? :._

Dropshock hoped all his sarcasm and dislike of this entire mission would carry across the comm. _.: Oh, did I say 'good news'? I lied. I meant worse news. :._

_.: Worse? Slag it all. What happened? :._

_.: I'm fragging stuck, that's what happened. :._

_.: You're… :._

_.: Stuck. In a hole. In a wall. My armor's caught on something and I'm stuck. :._

_.: Only you, Dropshock… Gimme a klik – I'll see what help Ah can round up. :._

_.: Oh, fine… I'll just hang out here. Get it? Cuz I'm stuck. In a wall. :._

He heard Jazz bite back a snort of laughter as he cut the comm and wondered just how long it would take for Jazz to round up the help. Idly swinging his hands, Dropshock scanned the cavern below him and started counting rocks.

At some point, he must have fallen into recharge because the next thing he knew something had startled him awake. After a bit of flailing and failing to move he remembered he was lodged in a wall; a moment later and he realized he could feel a rumbling vibration coming through the rocks. Groaning, he smashed his palms against his optics, just waiting for his section of wall to collapse and bury him – after all, it would fit nicely with the whole theme of the day.

The sound of cascading rocks echoed through the cavern and Dropshock flinched – when he didn't feel himself falling he cautiously moved his hands. The sound of transformation and moving lights caused the stuck mech to peer across the cavern to see who his company was, though the laughter left little doubt.

"Man, you weren't jokin' when you said you were stuck, were ya?"

"Oh all the time," Dropshock shot back with all the sarcasm he could muster, "What took you so long, anyway? You get lost or something?"

Footsteps echoed around the cavern as Jazz and his "help" wandered across the room, "We stopped to get ice cream without ya."

When the three new mechs stopped just below where Dropshock was stuck, the green mech adopted a flat stare and gestured at the small red mech, "I see at least one microbot suddenly isn't too busy."

"If you must know, I was interrupted at a most inopportune moment and may have lost a critical piece of research."

"Ah, sorry," he deadpanned, "let me know your schedule next time and I'll try to get stuck when you're free."

The blue and white mech snorted, "You always this mouthy to your rescuers?"

"Nah, usually he's worse," Jazz answered.

Dropshock revved, "It's hard to call you 'rescuers' when I'm not being rescued." He paused as he thought of something, "How did you get down here, anyway? And if you tell me there was a nice wide path the entire time, I'm going to murder someone."

"Don't worry, mah mech. We had ta work ta get down here – and by 'we' I mean Twin Twist," Jazz answered, clapping the blue and white on the shoulder.

"And he couldn't help earlier becaaaaause…?"

"Combat training." Was the blunt, slightly cryptic answer.

"Now," Twin Twist pulled out an unsettlingly large drill bit, "what do you say we get you out of that wall?"

Dropshock eyed the bit with more than a little apprehension, "Uhh… What, um. What are you going to do with that?"

"Oh, nothing much. Just make some room so Perceptor can get up and unstick your armor from whatever it's snagged on. With any luck you'll fall down without bringing the ceiling with you."

"… great."

The blue and white mech perched on a couple of boulders to get himself just a little higher and lined up the drill bit, "Now… Try not to move."

After nearly 40 minutes of very careful drilling and Perceptor crawling in between the rocks and unwedging Dropshock's armor plates gravity took hold and the green mech unceremoniously dropped out of the wall with a surprised yelp and a loud crash. He laid there for a moment before huffing air and dust out of his vents and slowly shoving himself into a sitting position.

A silver hand appeared in his face and he grabbed it, letting Jazz haul him to a stand. A quick diagnostic showed no severe damage – just lots of dings, dents, and a crinkled doorwing. Mustering his remaining dignity, Dropshock followed his group of rescuers out the very nice, gently sloping tunnel. After a minute or so of relative silence, he huffed, "I hate caves."

* * *

><p><em>AN:_

_Big thanks to _wolflover24_ for favoriting this and adding it as an alert. I hope I can keep you entertained!_

_Ahh, caves... Gotta love 'em. ;)_

_Dropshock's fear of rodents stems from the fact that about a month ago, a family of squirrels (I assume it was more than one, but who knows... Maybe it was just one really enthusiastic fellow) attempted to build a cozy home in poor Drop's engine compartment and ate all the wiring to the headlights as some sort of strange electric feast. It made for an interesting discussion with the mechanic, at least, and spawned Dropshock's now-permanent hatred of all things rodent._

_As always, reviews and critiques are always welcome!_


	3. Mass Allocation Unit

Silence reigned in the room as Dropshock stared blankly at the small device sitting calmly on the workbench before him. He crouched down and moved his face closer to it, optics narrowing in a mixture of suspicion and disappointment. The device had been designed and built by Wheeljack (under some idea input from none other than Jazz) so a little suspicion was natural and probably beneficial to one's continuing functionality. On the other hand, when Jazz had said that Dropshock was about to get a new armour upgrade, the green mech had imagined it being, well… bigger. Or more fearsome, or shinier, or _something_.

Without moving, the green mech cast an arched look to the two mechs behind the creation of the device.

"So this is it?"

Wheeljack nodded, "Yep!"

"But it's so… small."

"Well so're you," Jazz laughed, gesturing at Dropshock, "Doesn't mean ya ain't occasionally useful."

Dropshock leveled a flat stare at his commander; the silver bot just laughed some more. Optics rolling, the green mech stood up and crossed his arms.

"So what's this tiny thing supposed to do, exactly?"

Jazz glanced at Wheeljack and gestured for the engineer to take the lead; the white and green mech happily obliged.

"Well, you know how your subspace seems abnormally large?" Dropshock grinned, and Wheeljack continued, pointing at the device, "This is going to put that to use."

"For somethin' other than hiding 'borrowed' things," Jazz chimed in.

Wheeljack laughed, "Yes, exactly. This here is going to force compartmentalize your subspace. You'll still have your random storage area like everyone else has – and it'll be about the same size as that of an average Cybertronian's subspace. But the rest of the space? This baby will be using that for mass reallocation!"

"Uh… huh. And that will help me… how?" Dropshock asked, not being as well versed in Cybertronian physiology as the engineer.

Audial fins glowing in delight, the engineer tried to clarify, "When we transform, especially into Earth vehicles, with their interior cabins and trunks, some little bit of extra mass always gets shifted into subspace. We pick vehicular modes that are _close_ to our root mode's mass, but there's always a little bit extra that doesn't quite fit. This–" he picked up the device, "–is going to take that, and blow it out of proportion, using your soon-to-be-divided subspace."

Dropshock's optics narrowed, "So… I'm going to be able to fold myself all the way into subspace?"

Jazz and Wheeljack laughed, though the engineer tried harder to hide his amusement. The silver mech took over, "No, Ah don' think anyone can do that an' get back out. Yer just gonna be able to pick alt modes that are quite a bit bigger 'n you are or shuffle away more mass and pick an alt mode that's smaller."

"Oh." Dropshock stated. Then, as it dawned on him exactly _what_ this was going to do, his optics got wide, "Seriously? But Ratchet's always nagged about how–"

Like a demon summoned by an incantation, the door to the lab swished open to admit none other than the CMO himself. And no sooner did the door open did the medic finish the green mech's sentence, "About how picking an alt mode outside your mass range is dangerous? Nice to see you finally listened to something I've told you."

Not quite sure if that was an insult or a compliment, Dropshock decided it might be wisest to remain silent as the medic turned to the other two, "For the record, I still think this is a half-bit idea, and I hope to you've done all your tests because so help me Primus, if he–" a highly accusatory finger aimed itself at the green mech, who shrunk back half a step, "–ends up in _my_ medbay after picking some ridiculous alt mode and injuring himself, I'm coming after all three of you."

Jazz, remaining the coolest in the face of the CMO's wrath, held up his hands, "Don' worry, Ratch. There won't be any crazy maneuvers. Will there, Dropshock?"

Suddenly on the spot, Dropshock glanced between the three pairs of optics currently trained on him before vigorously shaking his head. "No, sir! No crazy maneuvers here. Absolutely not. Ever… Never."

The silence stretched awkwardly as the medic continued to glare, causing Dropshock to fidget nervously. Finally, Ratchet pointed to one of the spare berths located near the rear of the lab. Dropshock obediently trotted over to it and hopped up, pedes dangling idly over the edge. Ratchet, followed by Jazz and Wheeljack, walked over and ran a quick scan on the green mech, making sure all was in order.

Summoning a few tools from his subspace and setting them within easy reach, the medic ordered, "Chest plates. Open up."

Dropshock snorted before he could help himself, "Aren't you supposed to take me to dinner first?"

Without hesitation, Ratchet responded by smacking a wrench against the green mech's helm with a satisfying clang and barely muffled chuckles from the two mechs safely behind the medic. "Don't get mouthy with me, youngling."

Ringing audios and the wrench brandished at his olfactory sensor prompted the green mech to comply, chest plates moving apart with a snap; though he didn't try to hide the smirk decorating his faceplate. Leaning back on his hands, Dropshock idly swung a foot around as Ratchet pulled a handful of tools from his subspace.

"Hold still," the medic ordered upon noticing the swinging foot.

The green mech huffed, but did as he was told. As Ratchet worked, silence once again took over the lab, broken only by the occasionally ring of tools on metal. A few moments later and a small confused frown wormed its way onto Dropshock's faceplate; Jazz noticed and an optic ridge arched under his visor.

"That's never a good look."

Dropshock shifted his weight as he looked to his commander, ignoring the warning rev the medic gave him for moving. "Does Prime have one of these?"

"What?" The other three mechs seemed taken by surprise by the question.

"Prime. Does he have one?"

Wheeljack shook his head, "No, no one has one. At least, not as far as we know."

"But then whe–"

"Don't," Ratchet interrupted warningly.

"But…"

The medic looked up from his work, "Trust me. It'll be better for your sanity if you don't try to figure it out. No one knows. Now hold still."

Dropshock flung his hands in the air, causing the medic to snarl a curse and yank his tools back so the green mech didn't end up impaling himself with the movement. "But it just _disappears_! Where the hell does it go?!"

"That's one 'a those unanswered questions of tha universe, Drops. Only Primes know."

The green mech gestured helplessly, only to have the medic snatch his hands and smack them back onto the table. "Hold still, dammit. I have other things to do today."

Scowling, Dropshock deliberately shifted his weight, only to have Ratchet wrench some wires out of the way with more force than was necessary. Dropshock yelped in pain, startling Jazz and Wheeljack; several small things could be heard rolling across the floor as Wheeljack knocked something off the workbench he was leaning on.

"What was that for?!"

"I told you to hold still."

"You didn't have to _maim_ me."

"I didn't _maim_ you," the medic growled, "now shut up and _Hold. Still._ I'm almost done."

A few more minutes passed with Dropshock desperately trying to keep every molecule of his body absolutely still. With a sharp metallic click, Ratchet snapped the device into its new home. As it was connected to the rest of his systems, Dropshock felt his processor trying to figure out what to do with it. Ratchet seemed to know exactly what the mech was unconsciously doing. Connecting to Dropshock's processor, their systems exchanged a quick handshake before the medic uploaded a program before disconnecting.

Dropshock's optics flared bright for a second as his processor sorted out the new program and the connections to the new device.

Ratchet ran a quick scan over the mech before nodding to himself. "That program will let you control your new toy. I'm only warning you _once_ – do _not_ get crazy with your new alt modes. You're still going to have limits, and I do _not_ want you in my med bay because you decided to try to be an aircraft carrier, got it?"

Dropshock nodded, his faceplate twitching briefly into a giddy grin.

Ratchet shook his head and pointed at the door, "Go. Play. But _don't_ you _dare_ be calling me in 10 minutes because you broke something."

"Aye aye, boss!" Dropshock chirped, snapping off a quick salute before bounding out the door and heading for the training room, Jazz and Wheeljack following at a more restrained pace.

Upon reaching the training room, Jazz and Wheeljack were surprised to find that Dropshock had yet to try anything out and instead was staring quite thoughtfully at nothing.

Jazz elbowed the green mech, "Well go on, try somethin' out!"

"But I can't decide what I should try!"

"Why not a truck?" Wheeljack offered.

"A truck?"

Wheeljack shrugged and called up a few different models of trucks through the training room's holographic system. Dropshock shifted his weight from pede to pede before scanning an old F-150. He tilted his head from side to side as his new little program processed the shape. When it completed, he huffed a quick sigh and glanced at the other two mechs; Wheeljack nodded encouragingly and Jazz gave a double thumbs-up.

"Ok, here goes."

Cuing his transformation sequence, the green mech's plating shifted and rearranged as it normally would, extra pieces appearing as needed. When everything was done, a green and grey pickup sat happily on the training room floor. Dropshock rolled forward and backward, testing his new wheels.

"How do I look?"

"Well… Like a truck…" Wheeljack replied.

"… What does that mean?"

Jazz snickered, "The extra pieces ain't green. Ya look like a Frankenstein truck."

Dropshock made a tisking noise before his armor shimmered and the colors matched up. "How's that?"

"Much better."

The sound of transformation echoed through the room as Dropshock changed back to his root mode. He looked down at himself and then craned around to see his doorwings. "And I still look like me! This is so cool."

Wheeljack laughed, "You are welcome."

Jazz called up a new vehicle on the projectors, "Here, try this."

Dropshock snorted when he saw the projection but scanned it and transformed, leaving a green Smart car sitting where the truck had been moments ago. He flashed the lights and honked the horn in amusement.

Bouncing back to root mode, the green mech cast an inquiring look at the other two. "Do you think this would let me turn into something like a dog?"

"Um… I think that's what Ratchet meant by 'no crazy maneuvers'," Wheeljack said.

Dropshock chuffed, "I don't mean a corgi. I mean a robotic dog, like in a cartoon or something, or the dog version of Ravage's giant-robo-cat mode. What's the worst that could happen?"

"Do you really want to know?"

"Not really."

"I still don't think you sh-"

"Do it," Jazz interrupted, "For science."

The mischievous grin on the green mech's face said he was going to try with or without their support; Wheeljack face-palmed. Eyes squinting in concentration, Dropshock fed his program the mode he wanted. When it was ready he gave a thumbs-up and tripped his newest transformation sequence. In a few moments a large, very robotic dog stood where the green mech had been standing.

Wheeljack's audio fins lit up in surprise, "It actually worked…"

Dropshock trotted around in a circle, getting used to having four feet instead of two. He looked back and snickered. "I even have a tail… So cool."

He stood still for a few seconds before his canine face showed mild alarm. "Uh-oh…"

Jazz and Wheeljack shared a look before the silver mech asked "'Uh-oh' what?"

"I, uh… I may be stuck," Dropshock answered, ears laying back sheepishly.

"Stuck?"

Dropshock shrugged in a way only a canine could manage.

Jazz and Wheeljack simply stared, an awkward silence reigning over the room. Suddenly Wheeljack looked at his wrist, as though looking at an invisible watch, and put a hand to the side of his helm. "Oh goodness, just look at the time. I forgot I left a bomb counting down in my lab. I'll see you later, bye!"

Hurried footsteps followed the engineer as he dashed out of the room. Jazz and Dropshock watched him go before Jazz looked back at his now-canine subordinate. Dropshock gave his commander the best kicked puppy look ever achieved.

"Stop that."

Dropshock answered by making himself look even sadder. Jazz groaned before making a point to look at anything _but _Dropshock. After a moment, he put a hand to the side of his head like he was receiving a call.

Dropshock narrowed his optics, "Don't you dare."

"What's that Prowler? Ya say ya've got mountains of borin' paperwork ta do? Be right there."

"Jazz!" Dropshock barked, leaping to all fours.

The silver mech shrugged as he backed toward the door, "Sorry, mah mech. I choose life."

As the door swished shut behind Jazz's hasty retreat Dropshock glared at the door wonder just how he was going to explain this to Ratchet and survive.

* * *

><p><em>AN: Just a quick bit of silliness._

_Reviews are always welcome!_


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